


I'm Not a Child

by uttrash (jakaie)



Series: The Aftermath of Resets [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6905491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jakaie/pseuds/uttrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wonder what its like for them? To be older then what they seem? To have killed their loved ones, and then see them everyday? 1 of ? exploring the concept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not a Child

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've had this idea swimming for a while and I finally decide to run with it after I saw some other fans with similar views on Frisk. Flowey is mostly based on that snip of characterization we see post pacifist when you open the game again; a definite little manure-head at time, but not ill-intended anymore. Assumes genocide was never completed, of course, but perhaps attempted.
> 
> First attempt, mercy. ^^;

“I’m not a child!”

Frisk’s eyes widened as their hand snapped reflexively over their mouth at their own words. Toriel stood at the bottom of the steps, flabbergasted as they were at the raised tone so unlike the normally gentle voice she had come to expect.

They cringed as they removed the hand to speak. “I’m sorry, mom.” It was a quickened apology before they finished rushing up the steps. Frisk had just gotten home. They desperately had wanted to get upstairs without facing Toriel today. They didn’t want to talk about their day, or go through the false script that they had enjoyed it. But of course, they couldn’t avoid it. Of course, Toriel had to call them ‘my child’.

‘Child’. That word had come to haunt Frisk. It haunted them as they tried to serve as ambassador; it had quickly become in title only as the real work was handed off to someone more ‘age-appropriate’. It haunted them because Frisk wasn’t the age they appeared. Thirty-six years, five months, two weeks, and three days. That’s how long they had actually been alive. It was hard to act like a child when you were only playing one.

It was all they could not to slam the door shut before locking it, insuring Toriel would be forced to knock before entering. It wasn’t that they didn’t love their adoptive mother, but she was indeed their mother and some things never changed between a parent and child. Flowey glanced up from the large flower planter set up in the room. “Did you at least leave her head attached?” He was grinning in a playful manner. He often teased Frisk when they actually managed to get bite in their voice. It was such a rare thing.

Frisk grimaced in response. “I’m not in the mood.” Flowey in truth had been living with them for some time. Frisk had went back for him a scarce few months after the barrier had broken, desperate for a companion that would understand what they felt. Flowey resisted at first. But, he too found the allure of companionship and understanding too much to pass on and yielded. So, he relocated to a large planter in Frisk’s bedroom, one meter by half a meter in length located underneath the window. There was also a travel pot he could be moved into, but it was rarely used. He was content enough to stay there, watered and fed various sweets by Frisk.

“Of course you’re not in the mood. That’s the point. Did you leave teeth marks?” Flowey continued his prodding. His experiences from when the barrier had broken had affected him. He still couldn’t quite feel true empathy or compassion. But he could get as far as liking or disliking someone, and have a basic understanding what disposition someone is in. If he liked someone, he wanted to improve that disposition if it was poor, and the reverse was true if he disliked someone.

However, this basic logical understanding of empathy only went so far as he couldn’t quite tell if his efforts were helping or hurting until after the reaction from the receiving party came. After that, it was put into experience to try and better how he helped in the future. Though, to say he already knew how to approximate well was an understatement considering his own vast amount of time spent in resets.

Frisk ran with the joke, but used it more as a metaphor; he’d follow along easily enough. “I certainly hope not. I snapped, I didn’t go on a tirade. I hope she’ll merely assume I had a bad day… put it toward youthful angst…” Frisk sighed as they sat down their bag before sitting down at their desk, which was next to the planter. Their arms curled together as a suitable pillow before their head rested on them.

Flowey’s petals fluttered lightly with his head while he mulled the thought over before offering a ruling on his once-mother. “She’ll likely still ask.” Frisk gave a brief hum in response, not bothering to lift their head from their arms. When he received nothing more than that, he grew his stem longer, putting himself closer to eyelevel with them. “If you’re gonna have another one of your zone-outs, you might wanna do it somewhere besides here.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes when Frisk still gave little more than a weak hum of acknowledgement. He’d have to use it; the saying they always reacted to. “Pay attention, you idiot.” Frisk gave a jolt and snapped to attention at that, Flowey glowering in annoyance. “That’s what I thought. Moron.” He finally retreated to his normal size, now sulking at what just passed.

Frisk took a breath before getting back to their feet. They pushed their desk chair back into its spot before glancing to the bed. Maybe it would be better just to sleep for a while. They pulled open their desk drawer, dug around it for a few moments, and pulled out a number of gummy worms from the bag they always kept hidden within. They then turned to the planter where Flowey was still pouting and leaned down. And sitting the gummy treats down in front of him, they gently touched their lips to his forehead. “Thanks…”

They watched him as he perked up, grinned, and happily consumed the candies with gusto before rising to their feet. Frisk walked over to their bed and collapsed on it. Their age, the memories… it was too much some days… they didn’t know how to keep doing this… how could they keep facing their loved ones, when all they could remember was the dust?

They choked down the tears they threatened to rise and rolled onto their side, curling up into a ball while hugging one of their pillows. They hoped and prayed they could have sleep without nightmares for once; that maybe, for once, they would be blessed with peaceful, dreamless sleep they didn’t deserve.

 


End file.
